


The last time

by Madblah



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Past Relationship(s), Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-09 23:22:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13491975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madblah/pseuds/Madblah
Summary: This is it.No more after this time.But can they stay away from each other?





	1. Chapter 1

“It’s just this once.” 

“Yes, shut up.” comes the clipped reply, encouraging the talking to cease altogether as the girls continue to ricochet along the hallway towards apartment 206. 

It’s a well rehearsed dance, something they’ve done a hundred times before. But this - this is the last time. The decision is made. As a couple, they don’t work. But the sex - the sex is worth one more go before they say goodbye for good. 

They instinctively pull to a stop outside the door, as Lexa pulls her hands away from where they had been planted on Clarke’s cheeks, moving to scrabble in her jean pockets for her door key. 

This doesn’t deter Clarke. She continues in her movements, sliding her hands from their resting place on Lexa’s hips, running them up her sides and moving around her ribs...

“Stop!”

The shout pulls Clarke from her haze, and she opens her eyes to meet the mildly panicked green orbs looking back at her. 

“I don’t have my keys?” Lexa says, the statement said with the lilt of a question as she pats her pockets. 

“What?”

Lexa rolls her eyes, ever obstinate regardless of the situation. 

“I don’t have keys, as in, my keys don’t seem to be upon my person.”

Clarke takes a step back, running her eyes down Lexa as she does so, ascertaining that her jacket (which had contained her keys at the start of the night) is nowhere to be seen. 

“Fuck.”

“Yeah...I’ll have to go back.”

Clarke groans, tilting her head back against the wall. There’s no way around it - they’d have to trawl all the way back to the bar to collect the leather jacket, to gain access to the apartment, to make use of the large, comfy bed. 

“Fuck.” Clarke exclaims again, frustrated at this turn of events. Her frustration pulls an amused smirk from Lexa - exceptionally attractive and simultaneously annoying.

“The bar is like, 5 minutes away. Wait here?” Lexa questions, her face a perplexing mixture of smugness and hope. 

“It’s a five minute walk. If you run, you can be back within eight - max” Clarke replies, her tone urgent as she again places her hands on Lexa’s hips, squeezing three before moving them around to grip her backside. 

This inspires a different gaze - more urgent, excited, determined. 

“Yes, I can be back in eight. ” 

“Go.”


	2. 2

Clarke is sat (slumped) against the door of the apartment when the elevator dings, pulling her from her alcohol/boredom-induced slumber. Her head shoots up at the noise, and she’s ecstatic to see Lexa stalk out of the opening doors, urgency in her stride. 

“About time.” she rasps, moving to a standing position by the wide grey front door. 

“Like you didn’t sleep the whole time I was gone?” Lexa questions, a mischievous look on her face as she immediately slots the key in the lock and swings the door open. 

Clarke considers a sassy comeback, choosing instead to roll her eyes as she strolls through the door, grazing past Lexa as she does so, heading straight to where she knows the fully-stocked optic sits. 

“Drink?” She asks, as though the apartment is her own. 

“Jack and Coke.”Lexa answers, removing the newly acquired leather jacket and slinging it on the coat rack, the familiarity of the exchange poignant to both. 

Clarke takes two tumblers, quickly adding three cubes of ice and pouring identical drinks into both before heading to the couch where Lexa has plonked herself, handing one over to the homeowner. 

They sip in silence, before Lexa leans forward and presses a button on a remote control that starts slow, calm music that emanates throughout the apartment. 

“Ed Sheeran?” Clarke questions, an eyebrow quirking. 

“I’ve discovered a newfound love for his dulcet tones.” Lexa retorts, her lip quirking knowing her response will please her guest as her eyes finally meet Clarkes - forest green meeting ocean blue. It disconcerts Clarke - the intensity of her gaze, the reminder of what once was. 

It causes Clarke to falter, but still she hums in response. They both know Clarke introduced her to this music, and that blast from the past is best left there. 

Lexa clearly senses the change, and leans forward, depositing her glass on the coffee table and moving closer to Clarke. A bold move - even Clarke could appreciate that. It causes her to swallow and follow Lexa’s lead in dropping her glass. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Lexa breathes, unable to help herself. 

Again, Clarke swallows. She needs to not do this. It’s just sex - no feelings. It’s a closure thing. No profound declarations of beauty or love or affection required. To this end, Clarke huffs a laugh (false, even to her own ears) and grabs Lexa’s jaw. 

“You’re so hot.” 

Clarke chooses to ignore the slight furrow in Lexa’s brow, instead roughly pulling her in and joining their mouths again in an intense clash. Despite everything, Lexa meets Clarke with gusto. Lexa latches onto Clarke’s bottom lip, as Clarke instinctually takes her place at Lexa’s top lip. They move together, time passing before Clarke decides to lick across Lexa’s mouth, encouraging her to allow access. Access which is quickly granted. As soon as their tongues are introduced, the kiss grows wild, but still reminiscent of a dance frequently participated in by both parties. 

Lexa moves her hands to slide both sides of Clarke’s neck, gripping fondly and possessively. It reminds Clarke of the times they’ve done this when Lexa has been hers, and this startling thought makes her lean out of the touch and move to rip Lexa’s button-up off her form. She’s eager to turn this into a frenzied hook-up - not relive sensual sessions. 

It seems to discombobulate Lexa. She stops and looks down at her ruined shirt before moving her dark eyes back to Clarke’s. They stare at each other. Lexa seeking to understand Clarke’s motivations, as Clarke works to conceal hers. 

“Just sex. Closure.” 

“Okay.”

“I’m serious Lexa! Stop trying to take it slow. Let’s fuck and get it out of our systems.”

Clarke misses the gulp from Lexa as she starts to work off the buttons of her own shirt. 

“We need this - then we can just move on” Clarke persists, looking down as she continues to unbutton her navy work shirt as Lexa watches the scene in front of her unfold. 

“Clarke...”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically I woke up this morning having got crazzzzy drunk last night, and only realised I had written and posted this in the early hours of the morning...wtf?
> 
> But drunk actions/words are sober thoughts, so I will continue this I suppose! 
> 
> No idea where it’s going, but I’ve made a few changes to the drunken mess posted this morning that you may wish to reread. Nothing major - a few errors in grammar/spelling/contradictions. 
> 
> Anyhoo - enjoy?

Her quiet, calm voice pulls Clarke from her movements, forcing her eyes up. Clarke’s gaze is questioning. Lexa’s is intense, and the music flowing over the speakers is the only noise in the room. Clarke holds her breath as Lexa flicks her eyes between hers, searching. Inevitably, Clarke loses her patience. 

“What?” She snaps, lifting her hands in a shrugging motion. Both of their shirts are open and hanging off their frames, although only Lexa’s is missing buttons. 

“Nothing, it’s nothing, I just...”

“Just what?”

“I don’t know if this is a good idea, that’s all.” Lexa responds, looking down to her hands where they’re now sitting folded in her lap. Clarke takes her in, squashing down the fleeting feeling of guilt at the sight of the usually confident Lexa looking so vulnerable and unsure. 

It’s clear the thrill of bumping into each other, that relief of familiarity at an otherwise dull work event of colleagues and investors, the buzz of the drinks they’d had at the closest bar afterwards; it’s all wearing off. 

Clarke sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, lightly chews on it. Regrets her approach to this - she’s clearly jeopardised this chance and hurt Lexa’s feelings to boot. Again. 

“You’re right.” Clarke concedes, locking her eyes with Lexa’s as her glance shoots up. “I shouldn’t have pushed this. I’m sorry.”

If Lexa is surprised, she hides it well. She knows Clarke isn’t one to back down easily, or apologise if she doesn’t mean it. 

“Don’t be sorry, it’s just - we’re going to be working together again soon, and I just...I wouldn’t want to do this and then...because we’ve had drinks and stuff...”

Clarke cuts off the rambling brunette with a gentle hand to her wrist. She doesn’t say anything, just squeezes lightly before getting to her feet and moving towards the door, buttoning her blouse as she walks. 

“I understand Lex.”

Clarke misses the softening of Lexa’s gaze at the use of the nickname. Her features are schooled by the time Clarke spins around at the door and the room falls into an awkward silence. 

“How about we, um, grab coffee, Monday?” Clarke fails to hide her slight grimace, so Lexa quickly follows the offer up. “About the research - I’d really like to talk to you about the paediatric neurology research I was doing in Seattle. I think you’d find it interesting and might have some thoughts?”

“Oh right, yeah - sure. That would be really good. I’d like to hear about that. And your trip.”

Lexa offers a small smile, just one side of her lip quirking in recognition of the olive branch. 

“Good. I’ll find you after my catch up with Abby and Kane.”

Clarke simply nods, their gazes joined and Lexa still sitting on the sofa, her deep green eyes continuing to betray her vulnerability. 

“We always worked well together.” Clarke tacks on, just trying to fill the silence, but the double meaning of her words hits them both, and she watches as Lexa raises both eyebrows. Vulnerability turns to amusement, and Clarke knows it’s because Lexa has always loved rare glimpses of ‘Awkward Clarke’. 

Clarke raises her eyes to the sky and sighs quietly, before heading for the door again, this time not stopping or looking back, Lexa’s quiet chuckle muffled by the click of the apartment door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m planning to include some kind of flashback chapter or similar, to give you background and flesh this story/their relationship out.

**Author's Note:**

> Please review!


End file.
